Blowin' Smoke
by CocaCola Gold
Summary: My name's Kay, but you can call me Robbie for short.please r&r:
1. Pretty Lame

I AM SO FRICKIN' SICK OF ANNOYING GIRL "ANTI-HEROES" WITH NO PERSONALITES, WHO FLAUNT OVER WARREN PEACE JUST SO THE WRITER CAN ADD HIM IN SOME SORTA WEIRD FANTASY! AND YOU CAN'T ALWAYS MAKE PEOPLE FALL IN LOVE! AND HE'S NOT THAT HOT!

So, this is my story, enjoy:)

**Blowin' Smoke**

-1-

"Pretty Lame"

I felt myself choking on my own smoke, kind of pathetic, really. My dream was not vivid, dark and smoky, like the air around me when I woke up, in a very unnatural position, for me, at least. I lay the opposite way on my bed. Damn, **what** had I been dreaming? I coughed several times and tried to wave the black cloud that surrounded me away. Today… what was today? Oh yeah, first day of school. Killjoy. Like being stuck at home all summer wasn't bad enough, now I had to actually do something. Oh- and a new school, too! I think I let out a groan.

"Rise and shine, morning glory!" I heard dad's voice outside my room, and then heard a muffled cough. Dear dad, he tried so hard for me. Trying to understand what I was going through. He couldn't, but I appreciated the efforts. "C'mon down, sweetie, I got breakfast for you." And his footsteps disappeared down the hall.

I coughed several more times and pulled on some clothes. I ran a brush through my brown hair. I looked at myself in the mirror and tried to smile. I ended up in a fit of coughing, and decided to take it as a bad omen.

There really isn't any "bus stop" in Nevada. Everyone that I meet around here (which isn't much), think it's so cool to live in Vegas. Well, I live in Vegas, sure, but I live in the outskirts, where nothing grows but tumbleweeds and broken dreams.

My stomach growled. Dad's pancakes were disagreeing with me, and I coughed up some smoke. Yuk. Then I saw it. My "ride", I suppose you could call it. It was like a scene out of the "Magic School Bus", and yes, I used to watch that show, don't lie, so did you. I landed and I climbed on. There were tons of sophomores already on the bus and sitting with friends. They all talked and laughed, too loud, I wanted to cover my ears, but realized that that would lower my "cool" status even below where it already was. I found a seat in the front, apparently super-heroes are a lot like regular kids, no one wants to sit with the bus-driver. He seemed a little dorky, but I didn't mind. I just refrained from speaking, which was pretty easy, considering everyone else was so damn loud my hands kept finding their way to my ears, and I kept having to squash their desirers.

When we got to school, it was like a madhouse. Kids walking in, running around, flirting and being, well, teenagers. I hated to act superior, but this was pathetic. Of course, that may have been because I really wanted to be one of them. I walked in alone.

"Alright!" A particularly loud man's voice boomed. Again, I wanted desperately to cover my ears. "Now, we need to have another check of your powers, just in case anyone needs to be switched up, or down." He smiled on that last one. At my old school, teacher at least **pretended** to be nice. "You there." He pointed to a kid who cringed. "Up here. Now." I watched in horror as a weight was dropped directly towards his head. He leapt out of the way so quick it made me think of Flash in my dad's old comics.

"Copycat." I breathed so know one could hear. I smiled at my own humor.

"What're you smilin' 'bout?" Some fat kid shot at me. I glared at him, but he just snickered to his buddy. He smelt the air. "Damn, you a mechanic?" Actually, this was shaping up to be exactly like my old school. Next was a kid named Will Stronghold. I knew about him. When my dad deiced to go on his kick about how I should know famous heroes, I learned about his parents. Then, about three months ago, he and some of his friends saved the school from something. A car was dropped toward him and he caught it, easy. Great, what was **I** supposed to do, blow smoke?

Well, they never even got to me. Lunch bell rang, and we all headed toward its call. I didn't really care what I was, I mean, being a hero would be amazing, but I think I was more in my league with the nerds. My social skills were not so great.

Lunch, I decided, was just about the worst part of the day. I didn't know where to sit, and there were no empty tables. Some guys were showing off in a play-fight on one end, as most of the kids watched, so I snuck around to the other. I sat down at a table with two other girls, trying to be inconspicuous. That was not going to happen. The two girls turned to me, one a blonde and the other a less attractive brunette. I tried not to cringe. They were dressed in black, punk looking. What hadn't I been more careful with my seat?

"Um, who are you?" The blonde said, in a less mean tone then I had been expecting, but not throw-out-the-red-carpet, either. I mumbled something unrecognizable into my sandwich, and they rolled their eyes and continued talking.

After lunch came to "fun time" Apparently, Coach Boomer, the loud man, had convinced the principle that it would be "fun" to allow Sophomores compete in their first day. They also had decided, as a learning process, of course, that one new sophomore should be paired with one old. An experienced one, but still. Well, take one wild guess at who was picked to compete, with the whole frickin' school watching? (Author's note: a little cliché, but how else could I do it?) Yeah, me. I got paired up with Will Stronghold, which I was not too upset about, he was the best, but still. We were up against some new girl who looked about ready to kill someone already, dressed in Goth and way too much mascara, and that kid who helped Will, Warren, or Lauren? Whatever, I was freaked. Will tried to help, but coming from a hero, I **didn't** want to hear it.

"C'mon, it's fine. All we gotta do is knock them outta bounds, k? What's your name?" He inquired, but I didn't get to answer as Boomer shouted, "To the circle!"

The circle was large, almost 30 by 30 feet, and my stomach did a back flip. Now the sandwich was disagreeing. No one liked me today.

The girl's eyes began to glow red as Boomer shouted, "GO!"

Warren/Lauren flew at Will, fire shooting up his arms, and the girl stood in front of me as the crowd cheered. Suddenly, her hands turned to iron.

"Ready, princess?" She snickered, leaping forward, metal hands in fists. So I did what I could do. I made smoke.

I released a breath, calm as I could, and smoke poured out, carbon monoxide. The girl was on me, but she had begun to cough. I struggled free as smoke began to engulf the area. I heard choked gasps from behind and saw Will leaping up in the air, to rise above the smog. The monoxide removed the oxygen from the air, as the pyro's flames died, as he began to choke. I let out a cough. Breathing it forever did not make it any easier now. I heard a voice from above.

"Hey! Get rid of the smoke, you'll all suffocate!" I wanted to tell him I could not, it was sorta a one-way deal, but I was already feeling tired, a warning sign I knew well. I struggled up to help myself, as the smoke got thicker. I almost stumbled over a body, the girl's. I tried to pull her, but she swatted me away. I couldn't see a thing. It was never this bad. I wondered, briefly, if the guy was okay, but decided that he was a hero. He, she, they both could save themselves, right? I mean, why else would they even be here? They'd get out. I choked as my lungs filled with poisonous gas again. I had to get out. Now.

The hospital's a nice place to wake up, safe warm and not hungry. That was, until I realized what I had done. I sat up in a jerk, and felt dizzy. I looked around. The girl lay in a bed beside mine, and Warren/Lauren stood, putting on his coat.

"Nice job." He shot, sarcastically. "You almost killed her and yourself."

"I-I d-didn't mean…" I looked up at him, terrified. Had I really? Oh God. They'd kick me out. I bit back my lip and tried not to cry. What would dad say? He'd be crushed.

"Oh, please don't let them kick me out…" I mumbled.

"Kick you out?" He smirked. "You'd half to do a lot worse than that. They got kids come in all the time, thinkin' they wanna be "anti-heroes". They practically burn the school down." I let out a little sigh. "But blowin' smoke?" He raised an eyebrow as he left the room, hitching his jacket over his shoulders. "That's pretty lame."


	2. Super

Just try to be patient; it's character development, I swear. Setting the scene and junk. Please r&r!

Blowin' Smoke 

-2-

"Super"

The door opened just as I had begun to relax in my hospital bed. A shrewd-looking blonde woman entered. Everyone at this school was "shrewd". I think I was overusing the word.

"Miss Ionic?" She smiled at me, moving over to my bed and holding a clipboard.

"I really didn't mean to do that!" I blurted, quickly.

She nodded. "I know you did not, which is why we have deemed it appropriate…Oh what am I saying, my name is Mrs. Carmen Baxtor and I am in the admissions office."

My first thought was that they were going to kick me out, but then I remembered what Warren/Lauren had said, so I kept my mouth shut and watched her blonde curls bounce as she spoke, standing in front of my bed. She was very fake-nice.

"We did think it best to move you down to side-kick for the year, is that alright?"

I nodded, meekly. What was I supposed to say? I was only here because dad pushed so hard anyway, I couldn't let him down now.

"Good. Well then, you just rest up and I'll-"

"Oh, I'm okay." I assured her, quickly. "I can go."

She raised an eyebrow, but then nodded. "Very well, I'll show you to your class."

We walked down the corridors of the school, as they were empty, everyone was already in classes. Second to last period, great. I missed practically the entire day! The woman with the bounce-curls opened to door to a room and announced me to a class and teacher. He was short, rather bald and rather fat. He was a funny little man, to look at, at least.

"Miss Baxtor, how nice of you to join us." His voice was high and squeaky, like any stereotype would have placed. "Please sit." And he indicated to a seat in the front. I **hated** the front. I always felt right in the middle of everything. So, instead of going to sit where he pointed, I made my way to the back, in a seat in the corner. This, I later realize, probably did not do wonders for my already tarnished "image". Everyone probably thought I tried to kill that girl. Great.

I slunk down beside some kid who was a little dorky, but in a cute way. His brown hair covered the front of his face in an awkward, I-just-wanna-let-everyone-know-it-was-not-my-choice-to-cut-my-hair sorta way. He looked over at me and gave me a half-smile. I returned it; grateful anyone would even look at me. I know I wouldn't have. The teacher began on about particles of some sort.

"K.C." He whispered, introducing himself. I went to tell him my name, but just then I heard the squeaky voice uncomfortably loud.

"Miss Ionic, if you'd be so kind as to refrain from flirting until class is over?" The class gave a snicker and I glared, hoping that the hotness in my cheeks was just a figment of my imagination.

"Whatever." I mumbled, pulling out my notebook as I begun doodling in it. My picture started out as a horse, than morphed into a dog-cat thing, so I gave it wings and myself creative license to call in a made-up creature. I looked up when I felt a touch to my arm and saw K.C., who had apparently been trying to catch my attention for a while. He gestured to the picture and grinned. I shrugged off the compliment, and put my notebook away, hiding a smile as I did.

The bell rang and we were all released. I began to dig in my backpack for my schedule outside the classroom.

"Hey, you don't need it." I heard K.C. say.

"Huh?" I asked, rising up.

"Yeah, all kids go to the assembly room, I dunno why. C'mon, I'll show you." He offered.

"How'd you know what I was looking for, you a physic?"

"Naw," He grinned, "I just know what it feels like to be lost."

"Alright kids." A voice less-then-pleasant shot as a woman entered the assembly hall. "Welcome to the newest idea of Sky High. We're starting a new trend. All the sidekicks get heroes, so the activities will involve a more steady team-work. The sidekick and hero will work together in all physical activities. The heroes will switch sidekicks every term, got it?" Her red hair was pulled too tight in it's ponytail, and her fish lips contained too much makeup. The online trailer for "Doom V" kept flashing in my head.

"So we gotta get some loser sidekick?" A boy yelled, as I looked back at him with the rest of the seated kids. He was blonde and fairly good-looking, but he was one of those boys who knew it.

"Yes, Mr. Moncheli, you get some "loser sidekick" who'll no doubt save your scrawny neck over and over and over again. Now shut it!" She bellowed. I smiled with satisfaction. Teachers were never allowed to say that in my old school. "Now, I'm gonna read the names aloud." And she began.

I barely registered any of them; I didn't really know any kids, any way. I heard Will's name called and he was paired with a girl, I think, but I couldn't be sure. It was one of those weird, universal names. Terri, or Sam, or Robin…

"…With Ionic…" I sat up to hear. I spun to K.C.

"Who'd they put me with?"

He looked over at me, a look of ironic doom on his face. "Warren Peace."

I instantly wondered if one could request a change in people. Thank the lord he didn't know my name yet, I hoped. I wanted to cry.

"Great." I heard from K.C. "I'm with Grayson."

"Who?" I asked.

"A senior." He replied, monotone. "She's an amazing student and nothing to look at." I let out a giggle. He grinned. "I didn't think you could laugh."

-

We were supposed to meet our "heroes" after the assembly, but I was defiantly not up to it. Unfortunately, the bouncy-haired woman caught me, showing over to where the heroes were, all looked disappointed that they had to have a sidekick at all. It was all set up in the gym.

"All heroes and sidekicks will now have a chance to show each other their powers," We were informed by an exceedingly loud Couch Boomer. I tried to keep my head down and just sit. My guy didn't seem like the kinda guy who'd go out of his way to find you; so hiding was my best bet. That, like the rest of my plans today, was not going to happen. The loud couch located me. "Who do you… hey wait, you're the girl with the smoke. Right over here, with Warren Peace." He grinned as he grabbed my arm and practically shoved me into a crowd of kids. One of the boys tried to grab me.

"Leggo!" I yelled, tearing away.

"What're ya gonna do, blow smoke at me?" He asked, smirking as his buddies joined in, poking me. I could feel the carbon monoxide leaving my body, but they hadn't seen it yet. Suddenly, one began to choke. He must have had a particularly low tolerance to it.

"What the hell…"He coughed, swatting in vain at the vacant air around him.

"Get off." I commanded the one holding my arm, and he too began to cough, and then did. I stomped away. I hated my "power". What it did to me, waking up in dreams and choking on invisible gases, but I will tell this, it was nice to be listened to once in awhile.

-

"Hey, you, girl!" I heard from the stands. Warren (I guess I don't have to add the Lauren in now, cause I knew his full name) sat on the lowest step, legs on the ground. "Someone's got a bad sense of humor." I heard him growl.

"Whatever." I shot back. "I think I know what you do by now."

"Likewise."

"Good." I turned to go.

"Hey, girl, you gonna tell me your name, or am I suppose to look like an idiot tomorrow in gym?"

"You're **supposed** to look like an idiot." I sneered back, over my shoulder.

"Well, I ain't one." He rose. He was pretty tall, now that I unfortunately stood between him and what he wanted.

"Hey!" I heard a faintly familiar voice. It was the girl I had knocked out, and behind her were some other nasty looking Goths, nose-rings, the whole bit. I decided her and Warren would make an excellent pair. She glared out of her caked mascara and stringy, black-dyed hair. Once upon a time, it must have been a pretty blonde or light brunette, before she decided to become what so many people loved now, obsessed with death and black. "You're dead, girl." Surprise, surprise. She stood in front of me, opposite Warren. I was kinda trapped between a rock and a hard place. A flame and a Goth place. I found that it would have been funnier, had it not been true. I spun back around to Warren. Less of two evils, right?

"Robbie-gottago." And shoved my way past him, heading through the crowd to the door, and hoping that they wouldn't care enough to follow.

-

The day was over and it was time to go home (I had hid on the roof up till that point.), so everyone boarded the buses and I managed one that had as few peole as possible on it. Know one talked to me.

I got home to our ranch and my dad was waiting for me. "How was it, sweetie?" He hugged me. "How's being a superhero?"

I smiled and lied, "Super."

Oooo- I have an idea, how about you **review** now? Huh? WOW! Original!


	3. My entire, fun, glowing, Utopic day

Okay, um, getting thoughts in order first of all, why some people can't follow the story line is because I haven't quite made it up yet. So I'm taking in all reviews-no more annoying sarcasm, or at least less! And I'll try to steer more off the path of the annoying (oops, did I say that?) Goth, not-giving-a-shit ocs. Enjoy!

Blowin' Smoke 

-3-

"My entire, fun, glowing, Utopic day"

"C'mon, Robbie, Up and at 'em! You're gonna be late for school!" I heard dad rap on my door and attempted to throw a pillow at it. Yeah, cause my aims that good. It landed on the floor, so now I had my dad trying to get me up, and no pillow. I groaned, letting out a little cough, and twisted myself out of my bed sheets. The room was average-smoky, not overly and not underly. Except I don't believe underly is a word. I located my shoe as I thought of such facts of life, and got dressed. I looked in the mirror.

Mirrors, I had decided long ago, just didn't **like** me. My hair, short and up on my head (kinda like that guy's cuts at Abercrombie), was no short of a disaster. My shirt, green, and pants, brown, were just about as boring as they could get, but I'd feel weird in anything less, like I was trying too hard.

-

I sat out on our road for the better part of a very cold half an hour. I watched a cat cross the street, decide it preferred it on the other side, and cross back. My life was soooo exciting I wanted to scream.

Finally the bus arrived. I climbed in, and saw lotsa people, just like any day. I decided that I'd need to find someone to sit next to on a regular basis. I looked around the seats, quick, trying to find the most loser-ish person, sitting with no one. Besides the bus-driver, I located a girl, dressed in all brown, with frizzy brown hair that should have been brushed. I sat down next to her, in the middle of the bus. She gazed out the window, and apparently had no intention of introducing herself. I could be the first; I was brave enough, right?

"Hi?" I managed, not waiting long enough to speak that it got awkward. If you wait too long after sitting down, it works like that. "I'm Robbie."

Her eyes shifted over to me. They were brown, like just about everything else on her. "Jenna." She didn't smile, but she may have been one of these kids who just, well, didn't.

"Are you a hero or a sidekick?" I searched for conversation, and feared if this one didn't take, I was out.

"Hero." She said, deadpan.

Whoa! Maybe heroes weren't all that! Wow, that was really mean. "What do you do?" Was that p.c. (politically correct)? I guessed so.

"I make dirt."

I looked at her, my patience wearing thin. "Huh?" Could she at least **try** to make conversation?

"Yeah." She said, reaching out to touch the seat in front of ours. "I make dirt." And she broke a piece of the seat off, crumbling the now brown substance in her boney hands.

"Cool." I managed.

"Whatever." She shrugged. The rest of the ride was silent for me.

-

Upon reaching school, we all got out. I attempted to get in as inconspicuous as possible. Maybe my luck today had changed, cause I managed it. I went to first period, something about science, and pretended to listen, while not getting in trouble. I hoped the bald-short man from yesterday would forgive me for talking- I didn't want to be on anyone's bad side, although I feared it far too late.

The next period was a gym class. I found no joy in walking into the large room, and even less in seeing all the people it already occupied. I hated gym, always had. Who the heck invented it, cause they shoulda been shot.

Everyone talked and hung out together in packs. I saw Jenna over in a corner, and found my way to her. At least I knew someone, and I didn't know if K.C. counted anymore, I hadn't seen him today.

"So, who's your-" But I didn't get to finish, cut off by the loud man, coach, crap, I forgot. Oh yeah- Boomer! Kinda easy to remember, now that I thought about it.

"**Alright, I want all SIDEKICKS to find their heroes. We're gonna play some team sports, where the hero and sidekick gotta work TOGETHER. Yeah, HEROES, I said it. NOW GO!**"

A peppy, blonde girl with boing-boing curls hopped over to Jenna. She wore a pink velvet jumpsuit and had bright blue eyes, standing about 5'2". I smiled. They'd get along great. Whoever was in charge of assigning the teams sure did a lousy job.

I slunk off to find my "teammate". He was on the bleachers; in the exact same spot as yesterday. I stood in front of him, awkwardly. I **hated** awkward moments, almost more then I hated being embarrassed, although many times to two got hand and gnarled hand.

He glanced up at me, dismissively. If he was a psychic, he would have been saying, GO AWAY. But he wasn't. He was a pyro. Which is sooo much better, let me tell you.

Now, I could be nice, as you have seen, and am a nice person, as long as I don't get defensive. Well, he was making me damn defensive, not even looking at me.

"Rude much?" I shot under my breath.

"What?" She glared up at me."

"Nothing." I mumbled. I watched him play with a flame on his finger. I had never been a pyro, and was soon bored. Everyone else was still finding their heroes. I shifted my weight from one foot to another. I slumped to the ground in front of him, sitting cross-legged. He looked down at me in annoyance.

"Can't you just hold still?"

"It's taking to long." I whined. I was not patient, at least not now. I wanted to get this over with. He rolled his eyes.

"Very mature." I shot, just as Boomer started again. Warren tried to whisper something at me fiercely, but I turned away, standing, and listened.

"**Good!**" He, well, boomed. "Now we're gonna play some games. **DODGEBALL!**" And he threw a ball at some poor kid, who took it in the stomach. "If **either** hero **OR** sidekick gets knocked out, you're both out, got it?" Everyone found their way to one side of the gym or another. "**GO!"**

Dodge ball, for any human lucky enough not to know, is a sport for the strong, the fast and the mean. These facts had never encouraged me to uptake said physical activity. Unfortunately, now I did. Warren turned to me.

"Just don't get hit." He said.

Right, thanks for the encouragement but I probably coulda figured that one out on my own. He glared at me. Oops, musta said that one out loud. Suddenly, a ball wisct (you know, the sound a ball makes? And yes, it IS a word.) over my head.

"Get down!" Warren told me, pushing me down.

"Geez, competitive much!" I yelled back over the sounds of kids screaming and balls flying.

"Just shut up and get down!" He yelled again.

"Oh, go to-"

"Get down!" He yelled, and tried to cover me from an unseen obstacle. He failed. **WHAM!**

-

The hospital, I decided was getting old. Fast. I woke up in it again. My head hurt, and I looked around. I felt dizzy, and touched a bandage on my head.

"You couldn't leave it alone, you had to be bitchy." I was startled and turned to see Warren, getting up to leave. "And then they made me stay with you."

"I was HIT in the HEAD!" I looked at him in shock. "A little compassion?" He snorted. I saw someone enter the room from the door in back of him.

"Jenna?" I was surprised.

"Yeah." She monotoned worse then a math teacher. "I'm in your class, and they asked me to check if you were alright."

"What class?" She was a hero.

"God, this is so pointless." Warren threw up his arms and left.

"Intro to mechanics." She ignored his complaint. "All new kids take it. Anyway, are you okay enough to come back?"

"Yeah." I gave a bitter smile. "It's not like didn't examined the ceiling enough last time I was here."

I was surprised with what came out of her mouth next, as I stood to follow her out. "Oh, but it's **such** a fascination color of white." The unexpected sarcasm pretty much summed up my entire, fun, glowing, Utopic day.

YAY! I know, kind boring, but it's working up to better! Promise! Now review?


	4. Is it permanent?

Okay, I think I've got a plot now! Read and learn!

Bowin' Smoke 

-4-

"Is it permanent?"

"Whoa, you a boy or a girl?" I heard a snicker as Jenna and I walked down the hall to math. I spun to see a kid wearing a rather unattractive, jailer-like black and white striped shirt and a fat guy.

"Lemme 'lone." I mumbled, and kept walking. I felt a touch on my shoulder and spun around to see his long arm tapping it. They burst out laughing. "You suck!" I yelled, as they took off in the other direction. "I hate this school." I murmured, looking down and frowning.

"Where'd you used to go?" Jenna inquired. I looked up, surprised. Had she finally realized that I might be worth talking to? But her face was impassive.

"A public high school." I informed her as we headed into a classroom.

The class, once we got there, was already in session; so we found some seats, mine in the middle and hers by the front. The teacher was a man, tall and skinny as a rail. Kinda like a big walking fencepost.

"So, should we add the variable x to the sum of our counterpart…" I found myself already drifting. No! I had to do good in this school. Which, according to my use of grammar in that last sentence, was not going to happen. I pulled out a notebook and attempted to copy down the equation on the board. But it ended up looking like a cat, so I decided that it was much more interesting that way, and promptly gave it whiskers.

-

When class was over, I found my schedule. Crap, only last period again! I seriously needed to cut down on my immense number of head injuries. I spotted K.C. on my way to History, but didn't know if our "friendship" still stood, so I didn't approach. Besides, he was with a group of guys.

"Hey, uh- you!" He called, as I turned and he gestured to me to come over. "You never even said your name yesterday." Then, "Are you going to history next? That's where we are, come on." And he began away with two of the guys following. One had red hair, and looked a bit like a wanna-be Goth. He wore black, but tame black, no chains or anything. His face, like many redheads, was dotted with freckles, and looked, well, funny. The other was blonde, and real pale, kinda boney looking. His fingers were long and thin, red at the end, like they had been stretched a bit too far. He was about as pale as most people come, and scrawny, too.

"Robbie." I answered his earlier question.

"Robbie?" The red-head smirked, then looked instantly solemn, kinda like he didn't know if he should have done that or not.

"I'm Dan." The blonde smiled. I liked him. He just seemed nice and dorky. Like me.

"Carl." The redhead sort of smiled, but then looked down. He just couldn't decide **what** he wanted.

We entered the classroom to hear the teacher tell us all to sit. The boys located themselves to the back, and I followed. I wondered if I had license to sit with them yet? Well, it was three to a table and K.C. motioned for me to sit next to him and Dan. I felt kinda bad for Carl; he sat alone, across from us.

The teacher called role, "….Kay Ionic?…"

"Here." I responded and people who knew my name looked at me, waiting for me to explain. "But you can call me Robbie for short." Even the teacher looked up in surprise, her blues eyes kind of bulgy, but that was natural for her, and the overused of mascara did not help her condition.

"Excuse me?" She asked, more in surprise then judgment.

"Uh, yeah." I said. It was too long to explain.

Dan turned to me. "Robbie **for short**? Uh, Robbie's a longer-"

"I know, I know." I sighed. I always got this. Kay, but Robbie for short. Yeah, okay, so it wasn't exactly kosher, but, hey, I'm not Jewish.

-

Class was actually interesting, although I attempted not to show it, as everyone else seemed bored. I enjoyed it. I liked history, so sue me.

As I headed for the buses, I noticed that a) Jenna was not on it, and, b) Carl was. I sat down next to him; I think my status was high enough for at least that.

"Hey." I greeted.

"Hum." He replied, looking out the window. I thought.

"Where do you live?" Was the first thing that came to my mind, and I hoped it wasn't too stalkeresque, and yes, that's a word too. (I bet you're learning a lot of new words reading this!)

Apparently not, because he turned to me, showing at least a little interest in our conversation. "Las Vegas."

"Me too!" I smiled, suddenly very relieved.

"Really? I thought I was the only one. Where in it? I'm West Street, near the Plaza."

"Oh, I live in the suburbs, kinda." I thought again, trying to place our little house, in a neighborhood squashed between two trailer parks.

"Hey, my dad owns a small nightclub, and they've got a live band tonight, will you come?" He asked. Um, **WHOA**! Back up the horses! I, first of all, being a loser, had never been to a concert, much less being asked by a guy, much less on the first day I met him. He noticed my look. "It's not, like, a date!" He quickly cleared up, turning a little pink. "And it's not even a real concert, just at my dad's bar. I just wanted to have someone come, cause I hafta go, and I went to boarding school last year, so all my friends live in England…"

"Wow, England?" He nodded. I briefly wondered how a Vegas club owner could have enough money to send his kid to and English boarding school, but then realized it fell under the category of was-none-of-my-business. "Um, I guess so, I could get my dad to pick me up after, if he says it's okay." I pulled out my you-can-use-this-in-case-of-emergency-only cell phone and dialed my dad's work number. I was bored of my life, right? This was a change. It was good.

"Hello?"

"Hey dad, it's me."

"Hey kiddo, what's up?" I could hear him put down a piece of sheet metal.

"I was just wondering if I could go over to a friend's tonight? And if you could pick me up after?" I saw Carl gesturing to me, and put a hand over the receiver, not like he could have heard anyway, the bus was packed with talking kids.

"I can drop you off."

"Dad? He just said he could drop me off."

"He?"

"Uh, yeah." I wanted to explain to him how, if nothing else, I would **never** be attracted to the awkward boy who occupied the seat next to me, but decided that would be mean.

"I dunno, Rob…" He sounded doubtful. I almost wanted him to say no, but waited for an answer. I heard him sigh. "Alright. But be back by 11. And where are you going?"

"A concert." I lied. He would never have let me go to a bar. "It's close to our house, down at the Core Center, you know, the one for sports?"

"I guess so. So you'll just be dropped off there?"

"Yeah. Thanks, dad."

"Okay. Have fun, be safe. Love you."

"Love you too." And I hung up. I turned to Carl. "This 'concert' better be worth it, I've never lied to my dad before."

-

Well, as it turned out, Carl's house was waaaaaay at the other end of the city, and as we were dropped off I wondered if I started driving now (4:30), I could get back by eleven.

Carl's dad was a huge guy; he looked like a bouncer, and was in the middle of moving crates when we entered the club where we were dropped off. Carl had to help his dad, and I did too. It was kinda fun, and Carl turned out to be less awkward then I thought he would be, more relaxed now that he was away from his "buddies". We helped set up until near seven, when the club would open.

The band was called "T.X. Nova", which I didn't get at all, though Carl kept trying to explain it to me.

The bar and club opened, and we got to go up to the third floor rafter-ish things and watch the people, make sure no one was doing anything illegal. Ooo- I felt like one of those cops on Law&Order! Carl told me this was his job since his dad was busted for some people doing drugs on the floor. Now he had to be careful. Huh. If he had been careful in the **first** place…

"You hungry?" Carl asked, and I nodded. "Let's go to the grocery store, it's like, two blocks away."

"Vegas. At night. Alone. On a street full of nightclubs." I looked at him in a I-can't-believe-you're-actually-suggesting-this kinda way.

"Oh, c'mon, I've done it a million times." And he stood up to leave. I hurried to follow him. The only thing worse in Vegas then being almost alone, is being totally alone.

We headed out the back door, and onto a back street. There I spotted a woman, caked in makeup that even the bad street lighting could make out, and dressed as, well, it's Vegas, you know. Three guys were surrounding her, giving her a hard time. Finally, one shoved her down, and she gave a little cry.

"We hafta help her!" I whispered to Carl.

"Yeah right!" He whispered back. "How could we do her any good? They haven't seen us yet, we can still get away. Hey- Robbie," as I turned to go towards them, "don't try to be the-"

"Hero?" I shot back, glaring at him. He sighed and scratched his head. His complexion looked even thinner and weaker in the false lamplight. Kinda like a real bad impersonation of a zombie.

"What can we even do?" He asked, looking reluctant. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the girl being shoved down again.

"Go get your dad." I told him. He raised his eyebrows. Like his dad would care. "Go." I commanded. He sighed again. He seemed to be doing a lot of that recently.

"You won't do anything till I get back?"

"Promise." I swore. Right, did he think I was crazy? I wasn't about to take on three, probably armed, guys.

"Okay." And he unlocked and slipped back inside, as the door shut loudly and all three guys turned to me. I stood stock-still. Maybe…they wouldn't…see me. Just act…like… a tree.

"Hey, you girl. What you doin' here?" The one with badly dyed blonde hair asked, as all three left the whore and approached lil' ol' me. Maybe if Carl or my teenage minds had worked better, we would have had the sense to **both** go inside. Vegas alone, remember? Too late now. I began to let smoke out of my body, slowly. Unfortunately, these guys had probably inhaled enough crap to have a severely high tolerance level. I backed up against the wall, smooshing myself to it.

"What'd ya think, Shard, a virgin?"

"Oh yeah." The one with ugly dreadlocks and a nose ring responded. He reminded me of a dream I'd had of Bob Marley after I'd watch some documentary on him. They came closer, and smelt worse. I wondered what the heck they'd been smoking. Nothing good, that was for sure.

"Hey-" the last one, with a Mohawk and a black wife-beater (the men's tank-top) on sneered, "I think she'd be a hell of a lot better than any ol' whore." Wow, I defiantly saw where this was going, and couldn't seem to produce enough smoke, as it all floated away too fast. I needed that adrenaline rush I got when I was in that school fight, but I couldn't get it. I struggled as the blonde one gripped my shoulder. He smelt like a wet dog. On crack. I was pouring smoke into the air, and they didn't even choke. Where was Carl?

"C'mere." Bob Marley grinned, trying to grope me. "Aww, there ain't nothing even on her." He complained, referring to my sever lack of breast area. I was an A, but a **big** A…

"Who cares, she's a virgin." Blondie grinned.

"Leggo!" I finally managed, pushing away, and felt the smoke finally begin to come out more steady. Mohawk coughed. "I said leggo!" I yelled, shoving at him. A black cloud had surrounded me now, but the crack-heads were still grabbing at me, they probably couldn't even tell the difference. "**Let Go!**" I commanded, grabbing Bob Marley's shoulder, and pressing hard. He let out a squawk, which seemed more up the lines of Mohawk/Canary boy, but I'd give him license, cause he let go, grabbing his shoulder.

"What?" Blondie looked annoyed that he's stopped.

"**Look** at me." And he pulled his hand away, to reveal where I had touched him. It was black and burnt, as though it had been touched by fire. It looked like that seen in the original Harry Potter movie, where Harry keeps touching that creepy guy who has two heads. He brushed at it and some dust/burnt flesh/fabric blew off. "What the hell?" He looked at me, in fear and anger. Suddenly, the air seemed very thick. I gave a cough, and they too, broke down into choking. "Man, I'm gettin' outta here." Bob Marley choked, and took off. The other two looked at me, then followed him away. I tried to wave the smoke away, then gave up and moved out, closer to the street. The whore was long gone.

I examined my hand. It was cracked, red and black, like it had been in a fire. I shook it, suddenly in fear, then touched it with my other hand. It felt hard and dry, though I could move it normally. What was wrong with me? I reached out and touched the street pole, grasping it tight. I felt a sizzle, and when I removed my hand, it was burnt. Ash dust off and fell to the ground and blew away. I quickly, now in a mode of panic, pulled up my sleeve. It stopped about half way up my arm, turning back into normal flesh. What was happening to me? What was wrong? I slipped down onto the curb, burying my face in my hands, and feeling the harsh texture of it. Is it permanent?

Like? If not, well, give it a chance! I've even thought ahead to the next chapter, it will be good!

Tell me what you think,

-me


	5. Scary Me

Okay, well, here it is. Shorter, more refined. It may look like it's going one way, but I can assure you, if you choose to assume that, you'll make an ass of you and me.

I ACCEPT UNSIGNED REVIEWS!but prefer the signed ones…;)

**Blowin' Smoke**

"Scary Me"

I coughed loudly, waking myself, and reached down to grab the covers off. The sheets practically disintegrated at my touch, and I felt the dust where the blanket used to have been. I let out a groan and gave another cough. My life was all pixies and petunias, that was for sure.

To start off, I was grounded for not having gotten back by 11, or 10, or whenever my reasonable curfue had been. I had skipped it, not on perpose, of course, but day was maaaaad. I struggled out of my sheets and looked down at my poor hand. Cracked and brown-ish, red-ish black. I choked and waved the smoke away, unsuccessfully. The cracking had slowly vanished over the course of the night, as I rode on the back of Carl's dad's motorcyle at God knows what mach, trying to get home before 2am. I fought with my hair, tugging at it angrily. My throat was killing me, and I think I was coming down with a cold. I swatted again, annoyed at the smoke, and my hand was not normal yet. My dad would be thrilled, I thought as I looked over at my burnt sheets. He hated shopping for crap like that. I tried to pull on my shoe, and it's laces came into a knot. I fought with it, like it was a tiger rather then a shoe, than thrust it across the room, angerly, and letting out a yell. I was in SUCH a bad mood today.

"Robbie, you're gonna miss the bus!" My dad yelled from the kitchen, and that, for reasons unknown, made me want to hit something. I ground my teeth and headed out of my smoky room. "What were you doing up there?" He wanted to know.

"None of you business, okay?" I snarled back.

"Young lady, don't use that tone with me…" I heard the clear warning and backed down, shoving the door open and slamming it behind me. In turn, I nearly tripped down the steps, and grunted, again, angery "Uhhhh!", loud as I could, slamming my foot down on the steps, as though I would be punishing their cement form somehow. The bus pulled into view.

I climbed on said bus, and really, really wanted to sit alone, but I saw an open seat beside Jenna and decided that it would be approprate to take it. She glanced over at me as we took off.

"What's wrong with you?" She wanted to know.

"Nothing." I mumbled. Thank God it was Friday, I felt my now normal hand. What was its' deal?

At school I managed through English and chemistry without making eye-contact or having to talk with anyone. I might have bitten their innocent little head off. Unfortionatly, as I trudged to geometry, I was put into another strangely awkward situation. If that's what one would call it.

First of all, I had no clue where geometry was, seeing as my "head-injuries" had gotten in the way of me ever having it. So I began to try every door up and down math hall. This is one thing, I later wished, I had never had the bright idea of doing. As I headed, innocently, into one of the various math classrooms, which, might I add, had no markings on the doors, I happened upon a scene I never wanted to see. There, on one of the desks, was one of the Goth-girl's freaky friends making out with the one-and-only, Warren Peace. I think I made a little gagging noise, as he shoved his tongue down her throat. Both heads snapped in my direction, and I pulled my head out and slammed the door.

To be honest, I never knew I could move that fast, or get that lost in the crowd of students in the halls switching classes, but I did, in a mad attempt to avoid Goth and Warren. I shot away, but even now I could hear voices shouting.

"Hey!" A particularly loud one commanded. "**MOVE!**" And the sea of students parted as both the interrupted got a clear view of lil' ol' me. God! What the hell was wrong with me today! Nothing was going frickin' RIGHT!

"What!" I snapped, surprising myself. "You and your little girlfriend can have all the privacy you want, just go back in." My tone was condescending and sarcastic, and neither looked as though they appreciated it.

"You little bitch!" The girl cried and turned to her knight in shinning armor, "fry her!"

His response was too fast for comfort, as he threw a fireball at my head, moving up. I ducked, and faced him, as everyone watched. What the heck was wrong with me? I was gonna get pounded! I searched for my desire to run and all I wanted to do was fight!

He threw another and came up so he stood right in front of my, about a foot taller, too. His hands lit up in fire, and I could fell the smoke pour into the air.

"Whatcha gonna do, blow smoke at me?" He sneered.

"No…"I watched myself speak, as though on TV. "And you ain't seen nothin' yet."

I grabbed a hold of his burning hand crushing it, as my hand hardened about it, and I felt no flames. He let out a cry, squinting his eyes closed and trying to back away, but the scary me was not going to let that happen. The scary me took my other hand and ripped his head back by his hair, then released both, and kicked him backward, in the stomach. Then the scary me then moved to stand over him, as he withered in pain, holding his burnt flesh. The air felt thick around me, and I realized that the smoke had gathered about, and was heading into his lungs, as he choked on it, and I finally released, as the smoke vanished into the air. He turned to his side and threw up, violently, like he had been on crack or dead-drunk. I felt myself walk away, as Jenna hurried to catch up, and everyone watched as we turned the corner.

"Robbie, what **was** that?" She looked in shook. I disintegrated to the floor, against the locker, and tears that I could barely feel ran down my face. I wasn't sad, yet I was falling apart.

"Oh God, I don't know what happened! I'm totally scitzo, aren't I?" I was crying and she watched me in a strange horror. She was probably terrified of me now; I would be, heck, I was! "I want to go home…", I moaned, hitting the back of my head against a locker, in the empty hall. My hands shook and I groaned, turning my head as the felt vomit come into my mouth like a bad food. What was with me? What was with the scary me?

So, if I get reviews? I'll write more! And if I don't? I'll still write more!(But I prefer the first option…)

-me


	6. Ya Hear?

OOO- I Bet You All LOVE a Good Author's Note!

Hi ya'll! What's up with you? Well, actually, I don't _really_ care all that much… Anyway, to my point, I've kinda written myself into a nice, neat little corner. As much as I like said corner, I am beginning to think it's time to leave it. So, if any one would be so kind as to give me some ideas? Please? They would be much appreciated, I promise. Soooo…. Back to your lives, I suppose… Hang in there and remember, sarcastic and sad is better then not-sarcastic and sad. And no angst, it's bad for the skin, ya hear? 


	7. Blowin' Smoke

Well, I got the ending off a movie, _Point of No Return,_ if you can believe _that_... Anyway, this is it, so hope you have enjoyed it, even though I took too long in updating, sorry. Actually, I'm not _that_ sorry... Just kinda sorry. About as sorry as if I ate your soup. But tomato, not Alphabet. I like Alphabet...

**Blowin' Smoke**

"Where the hell did she go!" I heard through the blood pumping in my ears. My God, he was still conscious. This, and I knew Jackie Chan would agree, went way beyond 'bad day'.

I turned to stand but my head felt dizzy and I leaned to the side to puke, this time succeeding. "Robbie?" Jenna asked, slowly backing away from me. I didn't blame her, but I wished a little that I had a friend with a bit more compassion. "Robbie, he's coming back..."

"Yes, Jenna, I know." I got through gritted teeth as I stood and attempted not to sway. I squinted my eyes shut and leaned against the locker for balance. Equilibrium, I decided at that moment, was NOT overrated.

"Where the hell...!" I heard again, closer, as he moved around the corner, followed by about twenty kids ready for the completion to a decent fight that they were enjoying. At my expense. Well, I certainly couldn't quit now, and I had some hope, though my eyes kept phasing in and out of darkness as I swayed a bit trying to stand. I clenched my jaw tight shut and buckled my knees as the bad guy came to get me. Alright, I thought as he rounded the corner with flames up his arms, now smoke.

And nothing happened.

"What the hell?" I whispered, looking at my normal arms and feeling my un-scary personality. "Smoke!" I mouthed, but nothing came.

Warren Peace, my favorite arch-nemisis, was practically on me, a mere two feet away, and he bellowed over the yelling and growing crowd of kids, "What? Can't get your smoke on? Well then try some _fire_!" And he threw a fireball at me as I ducked out of its way.

"My God, Work!" I screamed, as tears had re-formed in my eyes. I was desperately fumbling with my hands, throwing them palm up in front of me. My vision phased again, and I stumbled, narrowly avoiding another fireball. The sound of the kids yelling was no longer distinct, but a dull roar in my head. I realized this must have been what it felt like to be on American Idol. At least Warren made me less queasy than Simon did. Well, maybe not...

"Bitch!" Warren yelled and threw another that hit me in the arm, but I didn't feel it.

"Work! Work!" I screamed, tears running down my face as my sight blurred even more, "Fuck! Work! Oh my God, Fuck! Fuck, fuck!" I screamed into the air as another faint burning sensation hit my chest and my knees gave out, but all I could see were colors, anyway, then nothing at all.

-

You know that feeling, that warm feeling, somewhere in your stomach, that just makes you happy? I have it in the mornings, when I'm half-awake. It's just this really good feeling, like nothing in the entire world could make you upset. It's kinda like a mini high, but a high on some kind of drug that's already in you. And then you wake up fully, realize that you have no reason to be happy, and go on with your boring, mediocre day.

Well, I did not wake up to that feeling. In fact, my wake up hurt like what I imagine being shoved into a shallow grave than hit in the head with the shovel used to dig it would feel like. And that's not a good feeling.

I opened my eyes.

A hospital room. _The_ hospital room, the one that I had oh-so-fond-of in my several visits already this year. It was practically my New Best Friend. But that was the least of my concerns. Actually, the least of my concerns was why dumdums have a mystery flavor when nobody cares about mystery flavors in lollipops, but I wasn't sure why that was my concern at all. The most of my concerns, which, by the way, IS a phrase, was that I could not get kicked out of this school. My dad had worked so hard to get me in, to get thrown out would be a direct blow to him, and I couldn't do that. But, hell, let's not pretend I'm _that_ selfless. The other big concern on my part was how the hell I was suppose to face the school again. I mean, after nearly getting _killed_... _AGAIN_... How much more would they put up with from me? My Lord, I wasn't Bush, I couldn't get away with _that_ much. But, then again, I didn't send us to war on no cause or ignore people in a flood. Okay, _focus_. Now, I needed to call my dad. I sat up and suddenly felt my chest compressing and my breath incredibly short. I let out a series of quick gasps, falling backwards, and tried to breathe. A nurse hurried in.

"Oh, dearie, you're awake. Yes, you have some nasty burns. All around your torso and on your left arm... My, I think you need much more rest." She looked at me in a pitying/concerned way that I actually liked. Yeah, feel bad for me, bitch. Ooo- that was mean...

"I need..." I let out a gasp and tried to continue. "I need... To call... My dad." I managed.

"Oh, okay dearie, just let me tell Mrs. Powers that you're up and moving, she wanted to see you..." And the nurse left, leaving me to contemplate what horrors I had created for myself, and what punishment I could possibly receive/deserved.

But I didn't have long. Principal Powers musta flew, cause she was back with the little old nurse within moments (which wasn't a very clever line, seeing as she probably _did_ fly. I missed when I was funny...).

"Miss Ionic... We need to talk." She knelt beside my bed in her black blouse and serious expression. I nodded, but didn't bother to attempt to respond. "The healer is on her way, she should be here momentarily. For the meantime, try to understand me. Your powers... I know you mean no harm... But they seem to be putting people... students, in danger. We, I along with the school board, have decided to put in a request for your transfer. You would be in a new school, more accustomed to your... _unique_ circumstances. Does that sound alright?"

Sure, I fucked up one too many times, and now I get reform school. But I suppose that I deserved it. I mean, we can't have the kiddies put in danger by the big, bad new girl. I hated the school, anyway.

"Kay... Are you crying?" The principal wanted to know as I mushed the tears into my face with my hand and shook my head no. "Oh, here's the healer, on time... Tell you what, I'll be back after she's done and we can discuss this more." And she and the nurse left as a black woman entered the room, dressed in a business suit and carrying a black medical bag.

"Good." She began, "Now, hold still." And the 'healing process' began.

-

Though not nearly as painful as growing bones in _Harry Potter_, the healing of burns was rather numbing, and my muscles about them felt sore as the healer left the room briskly, obviously on a schedule. She was one of those people, the ones who were always on some schedule... The ones who missed their son's high school graduation cause they had a plane to catch to Denver and needed to be there more.

I sat on the hospital bed, my feet dangling over the edge. I was able to think clearly, now that I could breath. Breathing, I decided, was another thing not overrated.

Change schools? Already? How long had I been in, a week? God, I wasn't gonna be one of those kids that got, like, five different schools a year, was I? Would my wardrobe all change to suto-goth and I suddenly find inhuman fascination in vampire bats? Not likely, I decided, but would keep my wits about and look out for any unnatural feelings towards the color black.

Just then the door opened and Principal Powers reentered with the nurse at her side. "Well, Miss Ionic, have you thought about my offer? With my recommendation to the school, you'd be sure to get in." She assured me.

"Thanks, but my dad..." I began, but she quickly overcame my reasoning.

"The tuition would be no more, and the payments into this school would transfer with you. We are sister schools, and all we want is for you, and all of our students, to have the best education possible." She informed me, smiling a bit.

I nodded, slowly, and slid off the bunk. "Alright. Can I talk with my dad first?" I asked and Principal Powers nodded, understanding. She thought I was being 'very mature', I could tell. Hell, _I_ thought I was being 'very mature'. "Aren't I going to get into trouble?" I asked, turning back towards the principal and nurse. "I mean, for the fight and all?"

"Mr. Peace explained it all rather well." She informed me, as we headed to the door. "He said that you seemed to have a... control issue with your powers, one that he took advantage of... So you, my dear, are in the clear." She smiled down at me and I gave a surprised little smile back up at her. "Now, one of the faculty members has offered to give you a ride home, so if you'll just proceed to the parking lot and find the green car... The school will call you tonight to discuss your switch in further detail." She said, and I turned to walk down the empty hall as she turned the other way.

Everyone was in there boring classes, while I had just had the adventure of my life and hated every bloody second of it. Except the part where I got to kick Warren's butt, that was pretty darn cool. I smiled to myself as I headed down the hall. Maybe a new school wouldn't be such a bad idea, new classes, new people, a fresh slate...

I glanced up to open the doors to the font of the school and saw the person I owed my disguised expulsion to. He leaned against the school next to the door and was lighting up a cigarette. I was going to ignore him and hope he ignored me, but what good would that do? I'd never see him again, and he couldn't do worse than he'd already done... And he hadn't blamed me for the fight. I walked over as he glanced up, holding his cigarette in two fingers.

"Smoking can kill you." I informed him, fully aware of the irony of the statement.

"Piss off." He told me, looking past me and off into the distance as I stood in front of him. "I got two months detention 'cause of you." He growled.

"I got expelled." I said, and he looked at me, though not particularly surprised. "'Course, they disguised it as a transfer... But I suppose I'd rather have heard that than, 'oh, by the way, you're a scary freak that we don't want around our children. Have fun in Sing-Sing."

"They're a lotta freaks scarier than you." He took another draw. There was a pause and he gestured the the lot. "Mom's coming." He told me. I nodded. I held out my hand and he looked at it.

"Leave on a high note. Like Beethoven. Hate Bach, too simple, too predicable." I supplied at his look, but my explanation seemed to make him squint at me more. He finally shrugged, putting his cigarette in his mouth and shaking my hand.

"So I'm never gonna see you again." He more stated than asked. The total lack of remorse in his voice annoyed me a bit.

"That's right." I said, letting our hands drop as he took out his cigarette and held it again. "My favorite arch-nemisis, gone before my graduation. I'm gonna call it, say I bet you, huh?" I said, planning on doing exactly that. I could tell anyone at my new school that I once bet up a pyro and they'd never know the whole story. A white lie, I decided.

"Huh." He said, looking past me again.

"Well, I better go..." I turned to leave but just as I did his hand made a reach and landed on my shoulder and I spun to reach up and kiss him on the lips. I felt his tongue and his palm brushed my face for a moment, as I pressed up against his body, before breaking quickly away, as we both regained composure. It was not my first kiss, nor my most passionate, but it was certainly my most movie-worthy make out ever.

I glanced around and utter, "Well, bye." Before beginning quickly down the steps and towards the green power car that waited for me just out of view, partially behind a bus.

-

A week later, after due recovery time had been allowed for my Oh-so-painful burns, I was talking to my dad in the living room as he caught the end of a football game he'd recorded.

"Aww, look at that baby!" He cried, throwing up his hands, "What a pass, what a pass! Rob, you should really be watchin' this."

"The Giants won, I read it in the paper." I didn't look up from my book that he insisted on interrupting my from.

"Now you just had to spoil it for me, didn't you?" He shook his head and smiled, as I smiled into my book.

"Well, if you'd shut up..." I hinted, subtly.

"Well, if _you'd_ show interest in some quality television for once..."

"I hardly rate pre- football as 'quality television'. They're not even in the playoffs." I informed him, but gave up on my book and closed it in my lap.

"Oh, Lisa called today-"

"Lisa?"

"Principal Powers. She had some good news. You haven't been transferred after all, you get to go back to school. Apparently they just got some new psychiatrist who is very interested in working with you." My mouth fell open, slightly.

"Wait, I _am_ going back to Sky High?" I hoped I had misheard him.

"Yup, just like you wanted." He answered, absently, still watching the game. "Aren't you excited?"

"Sure, dad." I sighed and leaned back, not sure whether to scream, sob or just sit in silence and pretend that I didn't have to face it all again. "Then maybe I can have mt toenails ripped out with pliers while I'm raped by a monkey."

My dad turned to me, surprised. "I thought you didn't _want_ to change schools."

I looked at him. "Oh, dad," I reached for my soda and sighed, "You really need to learn to tell when I'm for real and when... Well, when I'm blowin' smoke."

.e n d.

So I bet you're like, "WTF, yo? How is _that_ anything like _Point of No Return_?" Well, The random kiss scene is, in _my_ book, but that's about it. I bet you're also like, "But how the heck do you bounce a ball twice before catching it when the ball's roughly the size of a pinky toenail?" Well, I cannot divulge that information, but I know that you'll figure it out, I have faith in you. Thanks for reading, Over and Out.

R&R.


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